


Friends With Benefits #5

by Perfica



Series: Friends With Benefits [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-05
Updated: 2004-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus and the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends With Benefits #5

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternative reality where Harry is over eighteen and attending Hogwarts.

Harry shivered and hugged his arms tighter around his chest, wishing his Invisibility Cloak was thicker, or that he’d had the forethought to wear something warm underneath. He could feel his breath, slightly warm in the frigid air. He straightened and slowed his pace, knowing he could be less wary of being discovered as he followed the path to the lake.

The last few days had been horrific. Not only did he have to contend with the mixed feelings of relief, disgust and pleasure he’d had after finally killed Voldemort, he longed to pull away from the tide of joy and adulation foisted upon him by nearly everyone he knew. It was bad enough the other students had again taken to staring and whispering about him as he tried to finish off his last three weeks of schooling; even Hermione and Ron had been slightly awe-struck until he’d screamed at them, telling off Hermione and swearing at Ron. That had worked. They’d gone back to treating him just like they used to.

Classes were resuming in the morning, and he wanted one night of solitude before putting himself back in a position of notoriety. He knew, no matter how weird things were at school, that it would only get worse once he graduated and entered the wider wizarding world. He was enough of a realist to know he would be chased by strangers and the media for a very, very long time – at least until he gave them what they wanted or insulted them enough so they’d leave him alone.

Actually, the reporters probably wouldn’t mind being insulted - it would make great copy.

Pushing the negative thoughts out of his head, he resolved to enjoy his night of freedom and rounded the path to the banks of the lake. The water was still – its surface unbroken by twig, wave or beast.

The waspish, brittle tone of Hogwarts’ Potions master carried well in the quiet dark. Harry hunkered down behind the shrubbery and saw Severus Snape striding to the edge of the lake, an agitated house-elf trailing behind him. Though Harry could not hear their words, it was obvious that Snape was ordering the elf to follow his instructions, and that the house-elf was unwilling. Ignoring the fact that the tiny creature was pulling on its ears in what looked to be a very painful manner, Snape sat down gracefully, his long, thick cloak pooling around his body. The elf snapped its fingers, causing a small fire to ignite and burn nearby, bowed jerkily and disappeared with a muted pop.

Harry gritted his teeth. He knew he could be quiet enough to escape back to the castle without being seen, but he’d really wanted a few moments of peace. He sighed resignedly and stood to leave, just as Snape moved.

Harry froze, watching as Snape got to his feet, carefully circling around the fire and placing himself closer to the frigid waters edge. As Harry watched, aghast, Snape began to remove his clothing.

The cloak was shrugged off his shoulders and thrown carelessly to the side. Snape stood thin and straight, his body refusing to bend around itself for warmth even as Harry bought his hands to his mouth and blew humid breath over his fingers. Crouching down awkwardly, Snape’s fingers delicately trailed over the laces and eyes of his boots, removing them and his socks. From Harry’s position, he could see Snape’s pale, narrow feet sinking into the mud.

Harry moved closer, creeping silently between reeds and rushes, unsure of what to do. It was obvious that Snape was indulging in something secret, something that would no doubt make him wish to violently murder anyone who interrupted him - but Harry’s curiosity was piqued in a way that it hadn’t been for months. If Snape was going to do a forbidden water dance, sacrifice a chicken or howl at the moon, Harry wanted to see it.

He was near enough to see that the man was slightly shivering, his thin lips twisting into a grimace. Snape held out his hands towards the fire one last time, his dark eyes staring stonily outwards, turned, took a few hesitant steps to the lake’s edge, and in one swift movement pulled his robes up over his head and off his body.

Harry bit back a gasp as Snape’s naked body was exposed to his view. Ropy muscles covered his gaunt frame; old scars and new wounds crossed each other on his skin. Without further delay, Snape tossed his hair over his shoulder and walked purposefully into the lake, not stopping even as the freezing water covered his groin and chest, causing a shaky exhalation to slip out, and continued to walk until his head slipped under the surface and he was gone.

Harry waited for him to resurface.

Minute ripples crashed against each other then smoothed out. It was as if Snape had never been there.

Harry jumped to his feet, cursing and crushing flora as he ran towards the lake’s edge, throwing off his Invisibility Cloak, toeing off his slippers, not even hesitating as he pulled off his nightrobe and dove into the lake.

The air in his lungs was forcibly expelled as he hit the freezing water. He blinked furiously, trying to get a glimpse of Snape in the murky depths. He kicked to the surface, took a deep, shuddering breath and dove back under, hands clutching and grasping, ignoring the knife-like bite of the water, ignoring the high, hot pressure in his lungs, ignoring the fact that he was floundering wildly, blindly seeking the body that he knew must be close by.

He felt something brush past his fingers and, hoping it wasn’t aquatic plant life, clenched his fist in Snape’s hair, pulling their two bodies closer by Snape’s scalp and his own sheer determination. He wrapped his arms around Snape’s chest and kicked to the surface, legs faltering as he sank into the mud, struggling to get them to the shore.

Snape writhed in his arms, futilely fighting Harry’s grip. Harry swore and dragged their leaden bodies out of the lake, collapsing onto his hands and knees next to the fire. As he panted for breath, he watched Snape curl into a ball, mud and leaves covering his body as water streamed off his skin.

“Snape…” he began, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t know what to say so settled on, “What the FUCK where you doing?”

At the sound of his voice, Snape froze, one ear exposed through the tangled mess of his hair.

“SNAPE!“

Snape groaned and let his forehead hit the ground. Harry shook his head distractedly – this was ridiculous. They’d both freeze to death if they didn’t get moving soon. Scottish winters were bad enough when one was fully clothed and dry.

“Get up. We have to go inside.”

Snape’s head shook minutely, long fingers clutching the dirt beneath him as if he needed to stay attached to the ground.

Harry crawled over to him, anger starting to overcome his shock.

“Get up!”

He placed a hand on Snape’s shoulder and Snape turned, pushing him away. They fought briefly, hands, nails and feet coming into play until common sense prevailed. Harry rolled, turned, pulled his wand out from underneath his pile of clothes and Stupefied Snape in his tracks.

“I’d say I was sorry but you’d know I didn’t mean it. I swear I don’t – “

Grumbling under his breath and knowing time couldn’t be wasted, he covered Snape’s body with his Invisibility Cloak, pulled his nightrobe over his naked form and floated Snape’s rigid body in front of him as he quickly ran back to the castle.

 

***

 

As usual, the Room of Requirement exceeded Harry’s expectations. Once inside, Harry unceremoniously stripped them both of their clothes, dumped Snape’s frozen body into a warm bath, gratefully got into his own and released Snape from his bondage.

He listened to Snape splutter and start, water splashing onto the floor as he struggled to sit up. Harry closed his eyes and sank deeper; soft, warm water and crisp bubbles lapping over his shoulders. He listened as Snape swore long and steadily under his breath, and held his wand tightly in his hand. He knew Snape was wandless, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still dangerous.

Finally overcoming his nervousness, Harry looked at Snape and saw him reclining in the tub, eyes shut. Harry took in the rest of the room. It was small, intimate. A muted fire flickered in the corner, highlighting two comfortable looking chairs that framed a small table. Apart from that, the only other furnishings were the two grand copper tubs in which he and Snape were currently bathing. Harry sighed and sank down into the water again. Good Room of Requirement. Clever Room of Requirement.

“Potter?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that…?” Snape stopped.

Harry’s eyes shot open, annoyed that he was being forced to think. “Is it what? Really me? Of course it is. Do you think you’re dreaming?”

“Hardly,” Snape replied softly.

Harry slapped the side of the tub and sat up. “You know, I was going to be nice and noble and wait until you were more yourself before I asked, but seeing as you’re as you as you ever are, can I ask what the hell you were thinking?”

“Making as much sense as usual, Potter,” Snape replied, sinking down. His knees broke the surface as he ducked his head underwater. Harry’s muscles clenched, ready to jump out of the tub if it looked like Snape wasn’t going to resurface, but within a few seconds Snape’s head popped up. Harry let out a cautious sigh of relief and eyed him warily as Snape pushed long strands of hair off his face.

“I’m sorry for stating the bleeding obvious, but you nearly died, Snape. Damn, what does a person have to do to get a cup of tea around here?”

A sharp crack altered his attention to the small table by the fire. A steaming teapot and two cups and saucers waited for them.

“Thanks,” Harry said sarcastically. He looked at Snape again, wondering when he’d lost his fear of the man.

“So,” he asked, “any reason in particular you were trying to kill yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

Harry wasn’t used to such honesty. “Don’t you think it was…” he waved his arm around expressively, “…slightly melodramatic?”

“If you’re going to do something, do it with style, I’ve always said.”

Harry grinned at Snape’s dry, self-mocking tone.

“Poison wasn’t an option? A bit of foolish wand-waving? Performing hara-kiri on one of your knives?”

Snape sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I wouldn’t have been allowed.”

“Allowed?”

“By him.” Snape snapped his fingers and a house-elf popped into the room. By the reddened tips of his ears and his frantic expression, Harry knew it was the same elf he’d seen with Snape by the lake.

“Oh, Master Snape, what is you done? Slinky should never be leaving you alone! Slinky promised Headmaster Dumbledore to never be letting you out of his sight. Slinky is a bad, bad elf. Slinky – “

“Slinky will shut the hell up and do as I say,” Snape’s cold voice broke through the tirade. “Clean me off, get me dressed and take me back to my room.”

With a few waves of the house-elf’s hand, Snape’s body and hair were clean, he was standing upright and dry beside the tub, and was clothed in a long, velvety gown. Harry peeked over the edge and saw that Snape’s feet were encased in fluffy slippers.

“Nice,” he said admiringly. “Do you think - ?”

Snape inclined his head and within seconds, Harry was similarly garbed.

“Thanks,” he said to both Snape and Slinky. He quickly made his way to the table, poured himself a cup of tea, downed it and fell gratefully into a chair. As he poured himself another, he glanced nervously at Snape. “You could stay for a bit.”

Slinky clutched at Snape’s sleeve, possessively leading the man towards the fire, sitting him down and handing him a cup filled nearly to the brim.

“For Merlin’s sake!” Snape spat as Slinky tucked a blanket over his lap. “Stop fussing or I’ll – “

“Slinky is leaving, Master Snape. Master Snape is calling when he needs Slinky. Harry Potter is taking care of Master Snape,” the elf said, bowing carefully in their direction and disappearing.

They drank in silence.

Harry cleared his throat. “He seems rather fond of you.”

Snape snorted.

Harry tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his leg, taking in Snape’s rigid posture, his stare towards the fire. “You know – “

“God, do we have to do this?”

“No,” Harry said tightly, “you could just get straight to the point and tell me why you tried to commit suicide. I’m all ears.”

Snape sneered unattractively, turning his hard gaze towards Harry’s direction. “What’s it to you?”

“Curiosity. Things have been a bit dull around here lately,” he joked. “I could use a good laugh.”

“Do you mean to tell me that, after all the suffering, turmoil and general hideousness I’ve endured in my life, I am reduced to being your court jester?”

“Beats trying to be my Potions master. If it’s any consolation, you probably would have succeeded in drowning yourself if I wasn’t there. You’re not a total failure.”

Snape sighed, his hand shaking slightly as he tried to rest his cup on the table. Harry gently took it from him and set it out of the way.

“What do you want, Potter?”

“The truth.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Could you be more annoying?”

“’Dunno,” Harry said with a grin. “Do you want me to try?”

Snape huffed and rubbed his eyes slowly. Harry saw how tired he looked, his body finally still as the warmth of the room and tea settled his nerves. Harry suspected he himself looked much the same.

“Snape?” he asked quietly. “Why did you do it?”

“Why shouldn’t I,” Snape replied, just as quietly.

Harry shifted in his seat, a frown creasing his forehead. “That’s just…why don’t you want to live?”

“Allow me to indulge in cliché, Potter - what is there to live for?”

“Uh, freedom? He’s gone now – you can do whatever you like.”

“A nice idea,” Snape said snidely.

“Um, what about – life? Isn’t life worth living for?”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Neither are you! I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing.”

Scenes of the last week flashed before Harry’s eyes – people falling and bleeding, screaming in pain or victory, the clean relief that had cut through his soul when he knew it was finally over.

“I’ve probably been a bit selfish lately, haven’t I,” Harry mused. “You haven’t…I haven’t given much thought to what other people have been going through.”

“Lately?”

“More than usual. I didn’t…Dumbledore told me what happened.”

“Did he now.”

“I didn’t think you’d let me visit you.”

“Since when have you ever followed one of my directions?” Snape asked, a hint of amusement curling his mouth.

Harry knelt on the floor besides Snape’s chair, grabbing a long-fingered hand and clutching it tightly. Snape stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“Snape? Snape - I want…that is. Listen, I wish…I mean – “

“Does this sentence have a point?” Snape said, his fingers weaving in between Harry’s.

Harry swallowed thickly, wishing his tongue wasn’t so clumsy. “You won’t…can I see you again tomorrow? Will I?”

Snape blinked and stared over Harry’s head. Minutes crawled torturously by as Harry waited for his response. He watched as Snape’s face moved expressively, emotions moving more freely over its surface than they ever had in the past.

Reaching up very slowly, Harry took Snape’s chin in his hand and pulled his head down. He held his breath as Snape blinked furiously, his dark eyes moving blindly over Harry’s face. Harry indulged himself in staring, knowing he wouldn’t be told off for impertinence. For all their colour and movement and expression, Harry knew that Snape’s eyes were as destroyed as Voldemort’s body. His sight was the last thing Snape had sacrificed for the Order.

“Harry?”

“Yes?” he said, aching for the answer.

“Yes,” Snape repeated.


End file.
